


How the world has changed

by stargazinggirl773



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, F/M, Gore, M/M, Vampire Alec Lightwood, Violence, hes a vampire okay, lots of blood, post breakup, set sometime after city of lost souls, so he's bound to rip some people up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazinggirl773/pseuds/stargazinggirl773
Summary: Alec Lightwood has been transformed into a very dangerous vampire, and not just any vampire, a hallow.  A hallow is a faster and stronger vampire, who Camille wants to use for her own evil intentions, under the pretext of being the only one capable of restraining and controlling him (which is true).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare created all of these amazing characters, and I am probably butchering them beyond repair in my second attempt at a fanfic.
> 
> Notes: A hallow is just a term I made up, referring to an incredibly strong and rare vampire, born only from individuals with incredible intellect, courage, etc (Alec). For any Shadow hunter Tv fans out there, I hope you like it. I myself am not a fan of the TV show or the movie, and I imagine these characters very differently in my fangirl mind, or even similar to Cassandra Jean's depictions. But whatever works for you guys! 
> 
> Also, Alec Lightwood is my favourite character in the series, so he will prob be the main character/focus of future fanfics. I'm not a huge fan of Clary, on the other hand, but she will be used frequently to help narrate future fics (I apologize to all Clary fans)
> 
> Enjoy!

Alec’s veins felt like they’d been shot through with ice, and something cold and heavy was pressing down on his chest, his entire frozen body for that matter. A couple seconds passed as he struggled to open his eyes. If he could just see what was suffocating him he might be able to get out from under it. But once he managed to peel his eyelids open, dirt fell into them and they _burned_. Alec tried to do something, anything to ease the pain he was feeling, from being crushed and the particles that were still in his eyes. His arms were trapped at his sides though, along with his long legs, under one big mass, and with a sudden clarity he realized the darkness and the suffocating weight are all signs that he’s been buried alive.

His entire body tensed at the realization and his brain “whirred”, frantically trying to come with a way out of the death trap. Only later would he realize how strange it was that his brain could still function properly even without the oxygen present so deep in the earth. With all of his strength, he managed to shift his arms through the earth and above his body, pushing and clawing frantically in what he hoped was the way to the surface, to light, anything but the cold and empty hell. It felt like ages, his entire body straining and aching to lift and push aside the huge mound of dirt that enclosed him. Funnily enough, the buried alive part wasn’t really bothering him too much, it’s more the darkness that kept him desperately clawing towards the surface, along with the hunger. Alec hadn’t really noticed it at first once he’d woken up, but now it was spreading from his stomach through his chest and limbs, and seemed to be giving Alec some strength in his mission.

He was almost free now, he could feel the decreasing weight of dirt above him, and also the faint sounds of whispers and muffled sobs that were coming from above him.

After what felt like ages, his hand broke through to the surface, where he could feel icy wind blowing. Using his arm, he pulled himself up out of the earth and collapsed onto his back, exhausted and panting. Only, he wasn’t panting, he wasn’t even breathing, though he felt winded. His lungs weren’t burning and he had no desire to breath.

Alec opened his still burning eyes to peer above him where stars twinkle in an inky backdrop, shrouded from view by large branches and their leaves. Now that he was out of the ground, he could hear clearly familiar female voices, calling out to him, their voices cracking, but they were all drowned out by the hunger that has intensified in his body. It was now so strong that the pure desire for whatever it is was overwhelming, and it was what made him lift himself off of the icy ground and onto unsteady legs. The hunger was what forced his eyes open once again to seek for his prey, despite their insistent burning.

He could hear gasps, but he couldn’t focus on them, and the hunger made him see red, tinting everything in the colour, including the mass of bodies dressed in familiar black gear that surrounded him in a wide circle.

His subconscious names them all while he takes in he searched for a source of food to ease his hunger. “The red haired one is Clary, the blonde one is Jace, black haired girl is Isabelle,” and so on and so forth. Distantly Alec recognized his parents and many other shadowhunters surrounding him, while the other half of his audience looked to be vampires, their pale skin illuminated in the moonlight, and the glint in their eyes obvious. White blonde hair stood out from the rest, and it belonged a tall, beautiful women standing in the front of the vampire clan, grinning darkly at him. Camille.

 ***

Clary couldn’t breathe, and her arms shook, even as Jace held onto her tightly, his golden eyes fixed upon his former parabatai. Salty tears slipped down her cheeks, but she could still make out Isabelle, who was also sobbing, trying to reach Alec but being held back by Simon, who was watching Alec with a wary glint in his eye. Clary distantly realized that he would know now too what it was like to be made into a vampire, and that he may be the best suited out of all to deal with Alec, even before Alec’s own sister.

Magnus was a little ways away, standing tall and watchful on Clary’s other side. His face gave nothing away, and his cat eyes glinted yellow in the darkness, though she could still see how his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, arms enveloped by the long, black cloak he wore.

Jace’s strong hands dug into Clary’s shoulders, drawing her out of her observations, where she realized that he had been reacting to someone who was now speaking.

“- you don’t know how to handle him, he’ll rip you apart in a day, maybe two. Just give him to me and we’ll all be out of your way” Camille finished smoothly, eyeing Alec like a piece of meet, who was currently half standing, half crouched, and looking around with bright, glowing red eyes, so different from his signature, brilliant blue that she quietly gasped.

She wondered how long he would stay still before he acted, she shivered violently, only half of it a result of the weather. Maryse opened her mouth, eyes narrowed and shaking, and not because of the horrifically cold night, before Robert lay a hand on her shoulder and she turned back to him, sobbing into his chest. It was the first time Clary had ever seen her show any sign of dependence, but then again, when you lost a son, it changed a person.

The head consul chose to respond instead, and he fit the part of the leader of the shadowhunters, tall, bearded, with a broad chest and thick arms, and he stepped forward from the gathering of about one hundred shadowhunters behind him. After all, it wasn’t every day that a hallow was born.

Jace had explained to her, while he had stared blankly at the wall, three days after Alec’s disappearance and the burning of Jace’s parabatai rune, that a hallow was a very rare sort of vampire, ten times as strong as any downworlder or shadowhunter, faster too.

“He is one of us, Camille” the head consul spit out, “We know how to handle our own. Do you really think we would trust you with a hallow anyway, you ignorant devil.” Camille only smiled wider, the barest hint of her bangs showing as a reaction to the insult, and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“You forget, Nathan, that I am five hundred and sixty three years old, and I have met a hallow once before, trained her even. Would you rather Valentine get a hold on him, the perfect weapon to destroy the entire downworld and Shadow world?” Camille smirked, and continued before the head consul could respond: “But by all means, show us your abilities to control a hallow, shadowhunter, and I’ll show you mine.”

The head consul narrowed his eyes, and Camille finished “Let’s start with something simple. Do you even know how to feed it?” Camille’s laugh, along with the vampires behind her, sounded like shattering glass, and the shadowhunters’ hands inched towards the seraph blades hanging from their waist, eyes narrowed and cautious.

The head consul, Nathan, clenched his jaw, but determined not to back down from the challenge, bekenned a shadowhunter forward with a large hand. Camille smirked, and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

The called upon shadow hunter had a bag of blood that Clary knew mundane hospitals kept in storage, the same blood she remembered giving to Simon when he first turned. Alec’s eyes flicked to the blood, and everyone held their breath.

The following silence was only interrupted by the howling of the wind, and the clanking of chains. Two vampires drew forward two bloodied mundanes in shackles, both middle aged males in tattered worn clothes, with wide, terrified expressions.

Exclamations and noises of appallsion filled the air at Camille’s very daring breaking of the Accords, and Clary could see the flare of blue erupting Magnus’ hand as he came to the same conclusion. But all of this seemed to happen in slow motion, because the hallow, Alec, Clary thought faintly, moved faster than them all.

In the blink of an eye, his fangs had elongated fully, and he had launched himself towards the victims. For a split second the screams of the humans shattered the night air, before they were silenced by the hallow, who tore their throats out with his teeth, lapping at the blood flowing from their necks hungrily. On his second victim, when he didn’t stop struggling immediately, Alec ripped his arms from his body and snapped his neck, an obvious demonstration of the sheer strength that he possessed.

All of this happened within a few seconds, and in that time a sizzling shaft of blue lightning eruption from Magnus’ hand, shooting straight at Alec where he was feeding hungrily on one of the corpses.

In a blur of movement he turned, the blue light illuminating the red of his eyes and under his mouth, where blood was dripping off of his fangs, splattered on his chin and the corners of his mouth. In the next second, he was gone, and the magic hit the falling body of Alec’s victim, causing it to erupt in tall blue flames, a beautiful backdrop for Camille’s deadly pointed smile and manic, amused laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! At the request of some amazing readers, I've attempted to write up another poorly written, rushed chapter for this story. It was originally intended to be a short, one-shot, but... I guess not?
> 
> I don't own anything, enjoy!

Even after the blood- he thought it was blood, remembering the hot, flowing, bright red liquid- he was still _hungry_ .  It should have made him want to throw up, the thought of _drinking human blood_ , but whatever had happened to him made him want for it, thirst for it, need it, so badly that he didn’t care what he did in order to be satisfied.  

Although, faintly, in the back of Alec’s mind, beyond the never ending pain of _hunger_ , he could still remember the bright flash of blue and the pain on _his_ face.  The man seemed familiar, tall and leanly muscled, with honey brown skin, luminescent golden eyes, which had held anger and revulsion, as well as despair and shock.  But Alec had been preoccupied with ripping open mundanes’ throats, consumed by the need to feed to think about much else.  The thought of what he had done should have shook him Alec knew, sickened him, or shocked him, anything but the cold, emptiness he was feeling now.  

Currently, the hallow- that was what the shadowhunters had called him- walked silently through a dark alley in New York, unconsciously searching out for a new victim.  Or, more rather, running, in Alec’s case.  As he looked around himself and at the dark coloured warehouses and stores rising up on either side of him, he noticed that garbage cans and other pieces of typical city junk were whizzing by.  At first he bewilderedly assumed that everything was just moving quickly past him, almost as if an incredibly strong blast of wind had picked them up and blasted them forward.  

Dazedly, Alec thought to look at the ground, and his glowing red eyes widened.  His legs were moving in a silent blur, covering multiple meters in a single step, and the bare soles of his feet barely seemed to graze the ground at the speed he was moving.  Distantly, the hallow discovered that this was a _good_ thing, considering all the junk tourists and other mundanes had left littered along the alley.

Now that he thought of it, the faint breeze Alec felt flowing through his sweat matted, black hair, admittedly a pleasant sensation, wasn’t caused by the weather.  Instead, it was a result of how _fast_ he was moving.

The shuffling of multiple feet against the dirty pavement of a sidewalk somewhere nearby jerked Alec out of his observations, and his eyes glowed brighter than before, as the hunger within him intensified.

‘Mundanes’ he thought.  Fangs quickly elongated and appeared before his “normal” teeth”, glinting malicingly in the moonlight, and without thinking he ran.

A rotten,wretched smelling night air of New York blew past him as he sprinted towards the sound, being guided also by their scent.   _Nearby_ turned out to be at least ten blocks away, but he arrived at his destination in  a mere second, the tendons of his unnaturally pale arms standing out.  The mundanes, several homeless men, hadn’t noticed him yet, busy smoking and laughing dazedly around a dumpster fire.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway though.  They all died before they could even make a sound.

 

***

 

“He was here!” Simon yelled, his pale skin more evident at night, in the light of the full moon, than in the day.  Clary, Jace, Magnus, Isabelle, Maryse, and the rest of the many shadowhunters searching for Alec, hurried to where he was standing.  

After the massacre at the graveyard, Camille’s clan of vampires had vanished, whether it be because of the wrath of the shadowhunters for violently breaking the Accords, or because she was searching for Alec as well, Clary wasn’t sure.  She hoped they had run.

It appeared, however, that the shadowhunters were more concerned with the hallow than they were with Camille, fortunately for the vampire.  Clary brushed some of her frizzy red hair out of her face as he followed behind Jace to where Simon was standing.  The former parabatai of Alec had kept a tight, tanned hand clenched around Clary's arm the entire time, his golden orbs stormy and his jaw clenched.  He hadn’t said a word, but she could tell that it was hell for him to see his best friend turned into a vampire.  A monster.

Evidence of her own tears could be seen upon the dried streaks on Clary’s freckled cheeks, but she was certain that there’d be more -fresh- ones upon the faces of Alec’s parents, Maryse and Robert.  

Magnus had been unusually and disturbingly quiet too, his cat-like eyes narrowed in concentration around the ball of  blue fire in his upturned palm.  He had been using it, somehow, to track down his former lover’s whereabouts, a murderer, and Clary could still remember the intense heat she had felt coming from the flame when it had been hurled at Alec an hour before.  Clary shivered and drew herself closer to Jace.

“Yeah?  How can you tell, daylighter?  For all we know this is a trap and you’re working with _it!”_ A young shadowhunter called out to Simon, his face lost among the crowd of half angels starting to gathering around her friend.  

Clary’s heart lurched for Simon at the insult, but he said nothing.  Instead he stared at his accuser a moment, before turning and stepping to the side of the scene, gesturing back into the darkness of the opening of a typical alleyway.

Because of the darkness of both the hour and the shadows of the alley, it took a moment for the pupils in Clary’s green eyes to adjust.  She could hear gasps and even several small screams, most likely from the adolescent shadowhunters present, before she could finally make the bodies, her eyes still unaccustomed to the enhancing effects of shadow world runes.  Jace’s hand clenched tighter around her arm, and she bit back an yelp of pain.  She doubted he would’ve been able to hear it though.

Before her, partly hidden beyond the veil of shadows, were three bodies.  Or rather, two and a half bodies.  The all wore dirty, oversized and ripped clothing, closer to rags.  Hobos.   The one closest to the left wall was familiar it it's violence, with his throat torn out, the flaps of skin still attached to the neck and laying on the pavement beside the body, partly obscured by the man’s long, grey beard.  The second man was propped up on the opposite wall, held in place by something white- a bone, Clary realized- through his neck,  His rib cage had been torn open, and the insides were bright red and slowly falling out of the corpse.  She gagged.  Most horrifically,  the last body was lying deeper into the shadows, it’s lower half obscured,  the red stump of his neck easily scene.  What Clary had presumed to be a ball lying nearby was the severed head, eyes wide open, and beard stained red.

She let out a pained choked sound, but everyone stood frozen at the scene.  The last thing she saw before her world faded into black was the peculiar sensation that the floor was moving, living.  It glimmered faintly in the moonlight, a dark, inky blackness.  Maybe goo of some sort.  Then it came closer, and tendrils of the substance started leaking out onto the sidewalk, like the swirling lines of ink on paper. But as it came out under the moonlight it revealed its bright red tint, a colour Clary was becoming increasingly familiar with.

‘It’s a river of blood,’ she realized, and her limbs went slack.

 

***

 

Although he didn’t need to breathe, Alec couldn't help but gasp as he sobbed, tears of blood streaming quickly down his face.  He was huddled up on the roof of an old, abandoned manufacturing company, his hunched over back partly resting of a rough section of wall, knees drawn up and incredibly strong arms wrapped around them, while his feet and feet resting on jagged pieces of rock, randomly strewn along the roof.  

Once he had been able to quench the burning, gnawing hunger, to a more manageable pang, images and memories of the past couple of hours had come clawing up through his memories in his muddled brain, images of blood, violence, and the horrific ways he had ripped his innocent victims open.  Mundane victims.  Mundanes he had been sworn to protect, while he was still a shadowhunter.

Alec rocked slightly back and forth in a fruitless attempt to even begin to comfort himself, but the backs of his clenched eyes burned with shame, regret, horror, and revulsion.  And most of all: fear.  If he hadn’t been able to control himself around random, innocent strangers, how might he have acted around his family, Jace, Isabelle, _Magnus?_

The hallow whimpered and dug his nails into his palms, the sting bringing miniscule amounts of relief to his pain.

‘I should hurt more though, for what I did to those people.  I deserve to die’ At that  thought Alec’s eyes reopened, wide and determined, and blue.

Magnus didn’t love him anymore, he’d tried to kill him.  The memory of the pillar of scorching blue tinted flames sizzling towards him flashed in his mind. No one would.  He’d killed five people.  He was a monster.  A monster that deserved to die.

Just as he had begun to stand up on shaky legs, eyeing the ledge of the building- it wasn't a skyscraper but it was still considerably high, when he heard the sounds “click, click,click”.  High heels on cement.  

Alec could smell her before he saw her, making her way casually across the debris on the building.  She looked like a confident, shining beacon of hope and beauty, walking across a war zone riddled with mines, if you didn’t know what to look for: the malevolent glint in her emerald eyes, the faint smirk on her lips, her deadly grace.

Alec watched, numbly, as she made her way towards him.  Even if his heart still pumped, it wouldn’t be racing.  If she wanted to kill him, he would gladly let her to so.  She was probably more educated in the murder of a hallow anyway, whereas Alec had thought they were a myth, a legend, before he had ironically _become_ one.

His arms dangled limply by his sides as she strode up to him, stopping a short distance away.  He was taller than her by half a head, at least, but she radiated authority and deadly power.

She said nothing, instead continuing to quietly observe him, for a disturbingly long amount of time.  Eventually, Alec grew restless and clenched his jaw, turning back to his task.  Camille imitated his actions, her blonde eyebrows raised as she amusedly scanned the star littered skyline, far beyond the ledge of the building.  

“If you’re looking for a dramatic exit” she suddenly began, her voice clear and melodious, twinkling like bells, “Then I suppose that this is the way to go.”

She tilted her head then, beautiful, white blonde curls hanging down freely in the air, swaying in the gentle night breeze. “However,” she mused, “You won't die, which I assume is your goal.  Hallows _can’t_ die.”  

Alec had never felt colder in his life, although vampires weren’t supposed to feel the cold, he remembered reading somewhere.  

He turned away from her completely, wondering how fast he was able to run to reach Antarctica, where he would hopefully freeze into a solid mass, all of the danger and evilness he possessed locked up in ice.  Or maybe he could just pay a werewolf to cut off his head, like he had the mundane, Alec remembered fists clenching.  He could already hear the snuffling sounds of a werewolf’s wet muzzle, and he knew that they already possessed a certain hatred for vampires.

As if reading his train of thought, Camille repeated “A hallow can’t die, Alexander.” She placed a slender, icy hand against his cheek, moving closer towards him, green eyes big and deadly serious.

“But if you come with me, I can make your life worth living.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaayyy, so that was pretty violent. I've never written gore before, hope it wasn't too much. Just trying to establish a serious undertone for the story. Ugh, I need someone to proofread my pics, theres so many spelling mistakes. 
> 
> I've ran out ideas again, so please shout out any you've got. I guess I just struggle with staying interested/dedicated to a story.
> 
> Hope you liked it, please comment, I really appreciate it


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to read over it, but there's probably still lot's of run on sentences. Hopefully my writing is improving tho  
> Enjoy!

Another wine glass shattered in Camille’s pale hand, and she sighed.  It was nearing the end of the day, and the sky was a canvas for the watercolours of various pinks and oranges that bled into each other.  

A knock sounded on the door of her apartment suite, followed by the silky sounding voice of a male vampire. “Camille?”  

She quickly got up and when into the expansive bathroom, the frames of its many mirrors painted with pure, reflective gold.  She hurriedly applied more foundation and concealer to her cheek, recolouring her black lips for good measure.

Camille blinked once at her own reflection, cold green eyes looking back at her, before stalking back out into the kitchen and for the door.  She deftly evaded the crystal shards littered on the floor, and contemplated how to explain the disappearance of several expensive glasses to the manager.

‘I’ll just kill him,’ she ended up deciding, and reached a thin arm towards the door’s handle, revealing another of her kind. He was a little taller than her, with sleek, pushed back hair and black eyes.

She clenched her jaw into a tight line, and her fangs, which had unconsciously slipped out, dug into her pouting lips. “Did you find him?” she prompted.

“No, he’s gone Camille.  There isn’t a scent of him that I could catch anywhere.” he answered.  His tailored suit was a bit out of the new vogue, and his voice sounded unemotional to any mundane.

Camille could hear the trace of anger in her current lover, however, and she attempted a smile of gratitude.  He wasn’t the only one who had been eager, anxious, for the downfall of the naive half-angels.

The hallow, their weapon, was gone, and they were left to hide away, moving from multiple hideouts from the shadowhunters, angry over their precious Accords.  

It wasn’t an ideal, or even comfortable lifestyle, but Camille was vehemently determined to remain in New York until the hallow eventually appeared, as she knew he would.

“You’re a gem, Maurice,” she answered, and trailed her slender finger down, against the side of his cold neck, before slowly closing the door.

After listening to the sound of his quieting footsteps, she returned to her place in her armchair before the receding skyline, pouring herself another glass of blood.

Three days days before, on that fateful, freezing night upon the roof of an old warehouse, a shadowhunter had taken her by surprise, for the second time in her incredibly long life.  

He’d seemed so helpless, so terrified, that Camille had already begun to envision to the future in those haunted blue eyes, one where downworlders didn’t live under the rule of their tormentors, shadowhunters.  Where vampires could be free to feed as they wished without being hunted.

‘It’s apart of the natural food chain’ after all, she had thought to herself.  Vampires would eat people, and in return, they would eat animals.  Every species had its own, specialized and unique diet, and it was senseless that the shadowhunters would deny theirs.

Ultimately, she hadn’t seen it coming.  Her own incredibly sharp, enhanced eyes weren’t able to trace Alec’s arm as it lashed towards her, his elongated nails flashing before she had registered the pain.  

It was unfamiliar for the normally invulnerable Child of the Night, and as blood had begun to seep from the deep, fresh claw marks across her face, she had lunged towards him.  Or rather, to the spot where he had been standing, because he had vanished.

Heightened healing of the vampire had closed up the wound within the hour, but it was too deep, and had scarred.

She had been left to stand alone upon that rooftop, amidst howling wind, and beneath a cloudless sky, filled with distant stars.  They had flickered silently, mocking her.

The wine glass splintered in her palm, and the remaining few drops of blood splattered a constellation across the pristine white carpet beneath.

 

***

 

“It needs to be punished!” the head consul shouted, standing in front of an overflowing book case. The yell echoed throughout the towering library of the New York institute.

Dozens of other shadowhunters were gathered in a semi circle around him, while some younger ones had taken to rest on couches and armchairs.

“ _Him_ , Nathan _,_ not it. _He’s_ still my son.” Maryse answered angrily, dark eyebrows furrowed,  She looked older than she was, and ignored her husband’s reproachful whisper _“Maryse.”_

Nathan turned to look at her and quickly retorted:  “The _hallow_ brutally ripped apart five innocent mundanes.  Whatever resemblance it beared with the shadowhunter, Alexander Lightwood, is gone.”

He turned back to the mass of black gathered before him. “If shadowhunters are not able to track down Camille or the hallow, we will be demonstrating our weakness before the entire downworld, and our incapability of holding up and protecting the Accords, encouraging rebellions, revolts...”

Clary looked away from the large shadowhunter and shifted on where she was lying on the plush couch, before the institutes massive, crackling fireplace.  Her head was partly damaged from her fall several days prior: Jace had been too engrossed with the horrific scene to catch her.  

He was gone now too, and the large Cathedral seemed cold and foreboding without his radiance.

Alec, Camille, and the rest of her clan was gone, and all of the part angels’ efforts had not been able to succeed in tracking them down, not without the help of a warlock.  Though judging from what was being proclaimed, Magnus, or any other downworlder, would not have desired to be present.  

Her head suddenly throbbed and she clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the sensation to pass.

After Alec’s disappearance, Magnus had also vanished, while Isabelle had isolated herself.  His sister had locked herself in her room for two days, despite Simon’s quiet, persuading words, or that of her parents, before leaving sometime in the middle of the night to go clubbing.  When she had eventually returned to be embraced by Simon, her makeup was smeared, her hair a sweaty tangle of curls, and her dark auburn eyes rimmed in red.  Isabelle had returned to her room for entire day, once again, and now that the sun was setting again, Clary presumed that she would get repeat the night before and become dangerously wasted.

Magnus, in comparison, hadn’t made an appearance since the night his former lover had died.   

Clary remembered trying to go and visit him the day before, buzzing persistently and waiting for the warlock, who she had thought was beginning to become her friend, to answer.  There was nothing.  The lights were off and the blinds shut in the third story windows of the Brooklyn apartment complex.   Who knew where he had gone.

Once again, her brain pounded insistently on the walls of her skull, and she searched the depths of the fire, flickering red and black coals partly obscured by a blanket of grey ashes.

She had never felt so utterly lost and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if Nathan should be evil or just a jerk, still deciding. Pls comment! :))


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just trying to wrap this story up. Don't really have a plan, so...  
> Let me know what u think!

Alec had found out that Camille had been telling the truth his first day in Mexico. After belatedly realizing that he hadn’t gone up in a burst of flames, he could really begin to appreciate the country.

The sun was so much warmer on his face, than the white, small one had been in New York.  He almost thought that this new one was an entirely different sun, an entirely different world, where he could forget his past, and himself.

He could hear the ocean's waves whispering in the distance, rushing and falling over each other in like a green blue gymnastics tumbler.  

Another major difference was the _noise_.  There was so much of it, people shouting and yelling to each other in the market held in the street, every second afternoon.  Back in the city, all he heard was the constant chaos of honking cars and horns, but here the chaos was different, warmer, kinder.  The mudanes were very different from each other in other places of the world.

As Alec walked barefoot through the street, pale hands stuffed into the pockets of faded green sweater he’d stolen- his black shadowhunter gear had been torn and shredded in multiple places, stained with blood- his dark blue eyes darted back and forth, quietly observing the commotion, hooded by thick, dark eyelashes.  His normally straight black hair had begun to curl widely in the humidity, and it annoyed him.  

“Consigue tus naranjas aquis, joven” a short, plumb lady called out to him, gesturing to a pile of oranges piles high in a pyramid.  Alec wondered how long it would hold up for until someone knocked it over, before shaking his head and walking swiftly through the crowd of elbows and limbs.  

In a matter of moments, his bare feet were sinking into the warm, golden sand, littered with small white and pink seashells.  He walked closer to the shoreline, the clear salt water soaking the ends of his newly acquired jeans into a dark, navy blue.  

‘This is my chance’ he thought to himself.  Another opportunity to prove the blonde haired vampire wrong.  No one was on the beach, not even tourists- of course this was a lower side of the town, and hotels were uncommon- and he could easily try and drown himself.  

But the sun felt nice on his face, the air hot and suffocating to the point where he didn’t have to think too much.  

‘Besides, what’s the point of drowning myself if I don’t have to breathe’ he amusingly realized, thinking of his unmoving chest.  It felt hollow.

Alec didn’t know how long he sat there, digging his long fingers into the sat, clenching it as hard as he could, to feel the true limits of his strength.  Uncurling his palm, his eyelashes flickered briefly at the sight of a small, spotted rock.  The small grains of seashells and other particles had been crushed so tightly together that they had formed a hard stone.  

The hallow pursed his lips and threw it out into the sea in front of him, where it flew for miles before he could faintly hear the ‘plop’ sound as it sunk into the depths.

Hours drifted by and the noise, hundreds kilometers behind him, in the market started to quiet down as the townspeople packed up their goods for the night, preparing for another day out in the blinding sun.  Bright colours gradually faded out of the sky and his surroundings, leaving everything a deep, purplish grey as the moon appeared and the stars unveiled themselves in the darkness.

 

Without the colour, or the sound, his world began to feel like that moment up on the rooftop with Camille, with her sickly sweet smile and all too innocent eyes, weeks ago. Alec couldn’t even remember what she had said to him except the surge of blinding anger inside of him as he whipped his arm at her, dragging his finger deep inside of her cheek.  He remembered her shock, though, and his lips twitched.  

Violence didn’t bother him anymore, not when he had spent days trying to control his unquenchable hunger for blood, which always ended the same way.  With a masacre, pieces of bodies left lying on red earth.  He’d learned though, to hide the bodies, to avoid suspicion, and killing didn’t seem so horrible.

‘They’re just mundanes’, he reminded himself, and felt satisfied when his chest didn’t freeze.  

The footsteps were incredibly soft, and no normal vampire would have been able to pick up on them.  Alec was a hallow though, as he was beginning to realize every day.

They lightly grazed the beach, and for once, Alec could detect a heartbeat.

His eyebrows slightly raised and he half turned from where he slouched on the sand to stare at the black figure in an even darker background.  

“Alexander.” a familiar voice sounded, as velvety as his own. It also had the obvious lilt of a Spanish speaker, which is what ultimately gave him away.

“Hello, Raphael.”

 

***

 

The familiar slits of black in two circles of green were reflected back at him in the dark liquid, and as Magnus continued to stare into it, they seemed to morph into something sinister, darkening, swirling together, until they form familiar blue irises.

“Magnus, would you stop that.  Staring into that glass isn’t going to help you forget what happened.” said Catrina, sighing. “Maybe you should talk to me about it.”

She reached a pink hand to draw the alcohol away from the forlorn warlock, and gently placed it on her kitchen marble countertop.   

The sound seemed to draw him out of his trance, and he quickly looked up at her, plasting on a smile that even he knew was fake, and soon dropped it again after his friend looked at him, unimpressed.

He blew out a long breathe, and said nothing for a long while.

“I don’t know Catrina… I thought I knew him… it… but I was wrong.  He killed people, ripped them apart, and I tried to stop him but.   I couldn’t.” He brokenly tried to explain, slurring.  Magnus brought his the heels of his hands up to press against his eyes.

Catrina opened her mouth to respond, but Magnus interrupted her.  “I… I still love him. I can’t stop, and I, I don’t know what to do because he’s gone and he’s not even Alec anymore.  But I… miss him.” He whispered, looking up at her with red rimmed eyes.

She rubbed at her friend’s shoulder.  “Maybe you could just try and talk to him-”

He widened his eyes. “No! You don’t understand, you didn’t see what I saw.  He’s not Alec anymore, he’s not anyone!  I don’t know what he is, I don’t… know him anymore.” Magnus finished, looking down at the floor.

***

“What are you doing here?” Alec asked tiredly, turning back to the quiet sounds of the waves.

“The shadowhunters are searching for you everywhere. And downworlders are scared.  I was just curious.”

Alec fiddled with the sand, drawing a handful up and letting it filter down through his fingers like a small waterfall of earth. “Curious of what.   A hallow? My strength? I’ll show you if I feel like killing you” he drawled.

Rafael’s young, dark eyes looked down at the boy only three years older him, physically.

“No,” he finally answered. “I’ve seen one before.  I’ve watched you for a couple of days,” Alec looked up sharply, he hadn’t sensed anyone watching him! How was that possible. “You’re lost, Alexander, with no home, and nowhere to go. I know what it's like.”

The hallow hissed, standing up and stalking toward Rafael in a blur of motion. “You think I don’t know that!  I-”

Rafael stopped him with a raised hand. “Like I said: I know what it's like.  When I died, I killed many people, ripped their limbs from their bodies, and I don’t even have half the strength that you do. But I found a clan, and they taught me everything I know.”

Alec sneered at him ”That’s not saying a lot.”

Raphaels large, dark eyes remained unblinking, his face an impassive stone.

“I really can help you, Alexander, if you’ll let me.  There’s more to this world than blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously tho, I'm out of inspiration. Best idea in comment will be made into a chapter


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Magnus will meet up w Alec soon... in a chapter...maybe another 2... the point is that I have a plan thx to my amazing commenters.

“This isn't working!” Alec hissed, and his thirst clawed at his throat.

The smaller boy beside him didn’t bother looking up, instead remaining quiet and alert beside him.

If he couldn’t feel the cold, the hallow would’ve been long gone by now, preferably in Hawaii, where there wasn't a freaking blizzard throw daggers of ice into his ices, and threatening to knock over the tall pine trees beside them.  Distantly, hundreds of miles away, he could hear the thudding heartbeats of people, pumping warm, rich blood throughout their fragile bodies.  He fisted his hands.

Alec missed Mexico, the beach, the warm language, the chaos, the colour.  Here, everything seemed like it came out on an old movie: black trees amidst a white, howling background.

‘ _Why did I agree to this_?’ Alec demanded of himself, ignoring the answer within him: he was lonely, and scared of the emptiness inside of himself whenever he attacked another victim.

A particularly forceful blast did actually manage to knock down a tree behind them, and a groaning sound could be heard as the bark splintered, and a cloud of pine needles went up into the air when it hit the ground.  The hallow jumped a foot in the air.

He yelled at his companion: “We’re going to die here!”

“You can’t die.” Rafael reminded him calmly, dark eyes still fixed in front of them from where the were n=kneeling behind an a large, rotten log, knee deep in the snow.

Fangs reflected off of the snow as he snarled at the small boy, who was actually hundreds of years older than the eighteen year old hallow.

“There.” Rafael interject suddenly, with an urgent whisper, only detectable by a fellow vampire in the deafening roar of the storm.

Alec followed his gaze, where a small, unsuspecting dear was stumbling through the snow, searching for food, about twenty kilometers away.

“Animal blood is just as edible as a mundane, but you must _start_ and grow accustomed to it first.  Only then will my clan accept you” said Raphael, fingering the small cross on his neck.

It would have been so easy to sprint towards the small, Russian village, nearby for the hallow, instead of forcing himself to feed on the foul smelling fluid of the doe.  But Rafael was watching the animal calmly for him, keeping track of it’s movements, not once glimpsing at Alec to see what he was doing or thinking.  

He was confident in him, he _trusted_ Alec.

In a flurry of snow, the hallow launched himself forward, the black lines of trees rushing past him until they all blurred together.  The young deer managed to look up at him with big,black eyes and a small twitching nose, before it’s head was torn off and almost all of the blood drained from the corpse.  

The ground beneath them was changing into bright red, spreading out around them in an almost perfect circle,  some of it even tinting the snowflakes in the air before they ever reached the ground, tainted and impure before they were able to finish their long journey from the sky to the earth below.  

He was so hungry that he didn’t mind that change in flavour, though it was noticeably less sweet and fulfilling.  

Finished drinking, the hallow looked up to his mentor, the lower half of his beautiful, flawless face splattered with the fluid, a little darker than his blazing eyes.

Rafael stood in front of him, his thick lips still, and his eyes reflecting his satisfaction.  He nodded slightly towards the boy in the red snow, and joined him to feast as well.

 

***

 

“What is it, Clary?” Jace snapped at the small, red headed girl. “What do you want from me!”

She flinched violently, and stepped backward, holding her sketchbook as a shield in front of her chest.

“I was just going to ask if I could come with y-” she replied in a small voice.

The golden haired boy’s head hung, and he sighed.  “Do whatever you want.” he replied wearily, “ Just leave me alone.”

Clary pursed her lips tightly and turned around, managing to catch a glimpse of the faded parabatai rune of his bicep before the blonde mechanically shrugged on the black, shadowhunter jacket, made of some sort of tough, leathery fabric.  She quietly exited his room, and walked through the silent, dark hallway back to her own.  She gently shut the door behind her and sunk down on the edge of her bed, staring down at her sketchbook, remembering the once golden eyes as they had laughed and mocked her, long months ago.

Presently, there had darkened into a light hazel colour, while his hair still remained as vibrant as ever.

She could hear her own breath as she let out a long, shuddering sigh, and fingered the page on her lap where she had first drawn Jace with large, magnificent wings, and a devious smile.

He’d lost the light, though, and his angelical demeanor, along with his sister, who’d become withdrawn and sharp to anyone she spoke to besides Jace.  Simon was gone.  She hadn’t seen her best friend in a long time.

“Riiiiip” the page exclaimed as it was torn from her sketchbook and crumpled. The paper below showing Clary’s first designed rune became dotted with small drops of water as she blinked, and she tore it out too.  

Soon, a symphony of the horrible sounds were being conducted in her room, and pages fluttered all around her, before she hurled the remaining carcass of her sketchbook at the wall, where it fell dejectedly into a shadowed corner.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I messed up on last names and other details, I'm sorry:)  
> Hope you like it!

“We’re gonna be late…” Alec sighed, stale air exiting his umoving lungs.

Dylan turned to him and raised his eyebrows incredulously. “Are you kidding? Who gives a fuck?” he suddenly smirked at the hallow, “Let’s just go to Vegas! We’re already in America, and the faces on those shadowhunters when they realize they’ve been stood up will be priceless.”

Alec laughed at his friend.

“You’re an idiot” Rachel retorted, flicking her long golden hair. “They’d hunt us down and lock us up.”

“But they need us.” Dylan pointed out. “Or they wouldn’t have called us, begged us, to come down here and help the poor wubbie babies” his smooth voice turned ugly and childish at the end of his phrase. “Besides, they couldn’t catch us.”

Rolling their eyes, Alec and Rachel looked at each other meaningfully, as if to say _I can’t believe we’re friends with this guy._ The hallow put an icy arm around Dylan’s dropping shoulders, who was basically pouting. “We’ll go to Vegas later, and steal all the money from those ignorant mundanes before they even blink” he promised, blue eyes sparkling. Dylan let his head roll back, pretending to think about it, but Alec could tell he had already agreed.

“Seriously though, we’ve gotta go” he pronounced, and drained the rest of his plastic water bottle, tinted pink on the insides from the remnants of animal blood. Rachel quickly made a point of scarfing down the remains of her key lime tart- “It tastes like dirt!” “I know Alec, I like the aesthetic of it”- before the three vampires left the cafe and ran towards New York, skyscraper and cars blurring together. Even without the glamour, the mundanes wouldn’t be able to see this, with the exception of a slight gust of wind.

In a couple minutes, the trio arrived at the doors of the familiar, towering institute, with massive, intricately decorated oak doors. “They could’ve at least left them open for us” Dylan grumbled as they waited in front of it, taxi cabs blaring behind them.

Any passing pedestrian with the Sight might’ve two three tall teenagers with a shorter girl, wondering what they were doing in front of a deserted, ominous church at night.

They heard footsteps immediately, resonating rom inside the building, more specifically down two hallways and in the cathedral’s massive library, in Alec’s case, but it took some time before they made it to the doors. They groaned as they swinged open, revealing a small, elderly shadowhunter with a severe gray bun. She hissed at them, very alike to their own angry voices that blue, green, and grey eyes widened significantly.

“We’ve been waiting for you, insolent downworlders,” before turning and hobbling further into the gloomy interior.

“I could rip you apart in a second” Dylan muttered before Rachel hushed him. They followed swiftly after, and didn’t flinch as the entrance closed behind them with an echoing bang. Their feet grazed lightly upon the thick, red carpet on the floor, while the hallow didn’t even seem to be touching the ground. After swiftly gliding down two long hallways, and well deep into the church, the other two vampires could finally hear the whispers inside of the chamber in front of them. They waited impatiently for the woman to catch up, breathing hard on her stout, thick legs. She pushed open the door and the three vampires could finally make their way into the room.

Multiple eyes watched them as they stepped around Nathan Stormbrewer, who was standing near the exit, looking self important, and into the crowd, which appeared to have unconsciously divided itself into sections; werewolves, downworlders, vampires, and stoic shadowhunters.

Alec skillfully evaded the dark, piercing eyes he felt on the side of his face, ashamed. It reminded him of how he was treated little over a year ago, when time after time the hallow failed to constrict himself, and gave in to devour multiple mundanes. Rafael had said nothing, but his eyes implied everything. He was a hallow though, which allowed him certain benefits, along with second chances, and eventually, as he became integrated within the clan, and made loyal friends, the temptation was becoming harder to resist. Seeing familiar faces of those members didn’t make it easier, however, for him to be chagrined by his late arrival. Just thinking about his “dramatic” entrance stirred up suppressed feelings and memories, of another individual fond of being the centre of undivided attention.

He shook his head minutely and looked to the front of the room, where the head consul was sneering at him. “I’m so thankful that you’ve decided to grace us with your presence,hallow. Was it too difficult to cease committing bloody massacres.” he inquired, dark eyes glinting.

Humming, Dylan, who stood to his right, smiled brightly. “Well, we were actually debating on ditching and going on a little vacation. But we finally decided that getting to see your ugly mug was worth it. “ Alec snorted, and before Nathan could respond, added that: “We’re here now, Nathan. So don’t waste our time, considering you neglected to put up protection runes”, meaning that the part angel would be helpless against the hallow’s attack.

The consul huffed but turned away from them, addressing his diverse assembly. “As most you already know, Valentine has returned, miraculously, and has repeated his previous attack on downworlders, as well as fellow shadowhunters.” he took a breathe, which shifted his brown beard. “To protect the Accords, our lives, and our posterity, we must band together and put an immediate end to this attack.”

A large map was projected on the fill bookcase behind him, making it difficult to read. “He has been reported, here, here, here, and here,” he gestured at several locations in America, “and I will be sending out multiple teams to track him and his army.” He pulled out a long sheet of paper, and Alec barely restrained rolling his eyes. “The following, individually selected groups will be: Augustus Harvenstwood, Ragnor Fell, Cecille Greystone, Franc Bon Auber Sil, and Willow… Timothy Kale, Gabrielle Dokster, Catrina Loss, Madatha Kel and Rachel Burgund… Clary Fray, Jace Herondale, the Hallow, Isabelle Lightwood, Dylan Emers and Magnus Bane… John Guruther, Samuel…”

Alec wanted to rip his head off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> geez its hard making up random names:) let me know what u think


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be long, but I got tired, so ill include the rest of this chapter in the next chapter  
> sry if I got some details wrong, and 4 any spelling mistakes, cause there's gonna be tons

Alec ducked beneath the long, clawed arm of a demon, sprinting forward in a blur to leap off off it’s deformed, scaled leg to clench his hands around its neck, effectively decapitating it. 

It fell to the wet grass with a thud, and he darted to the next demon, some sort of a revolting cross between an octopus and an alligator.  

As the creature lunged toward the hallow, jaw wide and filled with hundreds of sharp, yellow teeth, its eyes rolled back into its head and it collapsed, before he let go off the longue black  tongue and all of the other organs attached that he had ripped out of its body. 

Flames of electric blue were leaping through the night sky, illuminating the war between dozens of Valentines demons and Alec’s particular team. 

While scanning for his next victim, Alec spotted trailing red hair as Clary leaped into the sky, and shoved a small but lethal dagger into a demon’s throat.  

A growl that was suddenly  _ very _ close to him signified the attack of another demon, a shapeless black mass with long, whiplike tentacles extending from its head. If Alec had still been a shadowhunter, he would’ve died right then, for the second time, but using his speed, he launched himself over the extending limbs and onto the monster, biting into the side of its neck.  He fought the urge to vomit when a fowl, thick substance flooded into his mouth, and tore out its muscles and tissues with his long fangs.  It let out a high pitched screech, excruciating for Alec’s finely tuned ears, as it collapsed in upon itself.  

The hallow kneeled to the ground and pressed against his ears for a second, but it was enough time for another demon to approach behind him, its spiked tale already whipping towards Alec to impale him.  

Blue flames shot forward between that second of time, dissolving the weapon into a scorched stump while the demon howled, and Alec quickly ripped out its heart.

Alec and Magnus looked at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch on endlessly.   Alec was paler than ever, but his blazing eyes were cerulean instead of ruthless red, his wavy locks as long as before and still hanging in front of his eyes.  Magnus had also grown out his hair, but it fell across his forehead in strands of dark brown, instead of vibrant oranges, greens, and purples.  

Despite the fact that both were now immortal, and couldn’t age, Magnus’ elegantly handsome face had bags under his eyes, which weren’t as luminscient as before.

Dylan’s call broke them from their trance and they returned to fighting.

The demons were gradually dwindling in numbers, and with the help of Jace’s deadliness with his glowing seraph sword, Isabelle’s whip, molten fire and deadly fangs and speed, only one, greater demon remained standing, roaring at them from above.  

Dylan circled it, yelling “I’ll go from behind, see if you can distract him from the front, Alec!” before disappearing behind it’s enormous body.  

A snap sounded as a golden rope looped around the demons legs, and bright red lines of red appeared on its multiple legs as Jace began slashing at them.  Flames lapped up its chest, but it continued to advance, splitting the wip in two as its legs began to heal, and reaching behind itself to throw Dylan to the ground,  _ hard. _

Its clawed hand raked down to the ground, and Clary’s shrill scream was piercing. 

All eyes were on the hallow as it hissed and ran forward.  Foot long claws sailed towards him but he flipped through the air naturally, using them as stepping stones up the demons body and towards what could only be his head: a demented mass on its shoulders, with deep set, dirty yellow eyes. 

Alec realized, as he ascended up its chest, that he didn’t have a weapon to kill it: his own hands and entire body was normally his sword, its speed and agility, as well as strength, making up for whatever it lacked, such as a long, sharp metal sword.  WHich is excatly what he need right now.

Instead, as its eyes came nearer, he reached out his arms and stuck them through its eye sockets, searching for its brain.  The being brought its gigantic arms up to fling him off, shrieking in pain, but by then Alec had grabbed hold of whatever was inside of it’s skull and jerked it out of its head.  A lump of squishy blackness, still warm.  He then jumped down and ran away from the monster, finding cover behind a large tree as the creature blew up, splattering its insides all over the forest.

_ I hated greater demons,  _ he thought, smearing the goo off of his arms in disgust.  Only Magnus was left completely untouched, through his protective, shining force field, while everyone else was splattered with intestines, guts and blood.

Alec was halfway to Dylan, who had declared that he was a “badass”, when Clary let out a soft whimper.   Alec sighed and turned to help the foolish red head when he saw that Magnus was already there.  Sections of his broad, caramel back was visible through the torn strips of his signature warlock cloak, and the hallow felt a familiar sense of longing which he was quick to squish, smother, and  _ burn _ .

He took a large, unneeded breathe and returned to his friend. 

“Dude!”, Dylan said, green eyes wide, “I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

Alec chuckled slightly, “Yeah well the only thing we’ve ever hunted was deer, and stolen blood sacs from hospitals.

His friend rolled his eyes and slowly got up, stretching, “Still, that was crazy cool.”

Alec shoved at his shoulder as they all came together to regroup.  

Hazel eyes were watching the hallow silently, and blue eyes looked up to meet the stare until Jace turned away. 

“My sensor detects that there are no other unknown demons in this area.” Isabelle announced, impassively.  She tightened her pony tail and continued “We should report back to the institute and wait for further instructions,” before turning away to retrieve the remnants of her whip. 

“But we’re already in Hollywood!” Dylan protested, and Isabelle whipped back to face him, sneering.  The facial expression was so unfamiliar and jolting that Alec determinedly tuned them out, which he had found that he was able to do after only three months in Rafael’s clan.

The rest of their ‘team’ was quiet, so Alec took the initiative to announce that he agreed and “everyone should be ready to return to New York tomorrow morning, after they had all healed from their injuries.

The hallow himself had none, his skin as flawless as ever, as well as Dylan’s, while everyone appeared to have a few minor scratches on them.

When he turned back, Isabelle was already stalking off into the night, and Dylan signalling to him that he was going to go and hunt.  

Clary and Jace were watching them when he looked back, and with a small jolt of surprise, Alec observed that both were standing some feet apart, distant and dismissive of the other.  

“He’s right, you know, a  _ hallow _ really can move fast.” Jace informed him. 

Alec’s eyes narrowed. “Excellent observation, _ shadowhunter _ .”

Jace scoffed, but it was a bit delayed, and Alec’s eyebrows furrowed fractionally, before stiffly turning away.  Clary departed in the opposite direction, followed by Magnus.  

Moving swiftly across the torn grass, stained black in some sections with either goo, blood, or innards, Alec debated with himself of either renting a hotel or following his friend, although he wasn’t dangerously hungry.  He was just exiting the deserted park, since no one would be around at two o’clock in the morning, when he heard a pained gasp behind him.  

The warlock was kneeling on the ground, hidden almost entirely by shadows, which the hallow’s gaze cut through.  When he concentrated, he could hear shallow, shaky breathes from the tall downworlder, and his hands clenched. 

His footsteps were undetectable on the grass, and Magnus only flinched when he placed a cold hand on top of his knee. 

“I don’t need your help, hallow!” Magnus angrily hissed, or tried to, because it was cut short by another quiet inhalation.  

Alec ignored him, because judging from the overpowering, rich smell of blood coming from his abdomen, he was bleeding out.  Knowing that the warlock wouldn’t be able to heal himself after all of the magic he had used during the life threatening battle, Alec ignored him, and slowly reached toward his former lover.  

Long fingered, delicate hands, which hid their true strength in that moment, gently removed Magnus tightly coiled arms, and tore open the immortal teenager’s shirt. Cat like eyes watched him unwaveringly, but Magnus seemed to give in as Alec pushed on his shoulders, encouraging him to lay down on the grass. 

Judging by the amount of blood pooling on the tanned stomach, the gash was deep, most likely from a long and thin demon’s claw.

Alec had to act fast. 

He pressed down firmly on his ex boyfriend’s wound as he concentrated fully on his surroundings, allowing his senses to increase in their range and encompass everything that they heard.  It was dangerous, he knew, because doing so, or more rather, being unable to not do so, was partially what influenced Alec to murder the mundanes a year ago, driven mad and hunger and overwhelming amounts of sound.  

The sweet smelling, fresh blood wasn’t helping Magnus’ cause either, but as he shakily inhaled again, Alec concentrated on his golden green eyes, and the way those slitted pupils used to dilate whenever they looked at him, shining with adoration.  

Soon enough, the hallow was able to pinpoint the sounds of a cash register and rattling pills in a bottle amidst the chaos, and he commanded Magnus to apply pressure before he disappeared, flying past trees and cars and buildings until he reached the pharmacy.  In seconds, Alec had returned, arms full of bandages and other medical supplies.  

Magnus’ eyes widened slightly from their half open state as he watched the white blur that was Alec’s arms as the hallow cleaned the blood away, stitched closed the tear, and bandaged Magnus’ stomach tightly.

His eyes only flashed red once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only like 3 chapters left, max (I still need to do something about Camille) :) hope u liked it, if u didn't thats okay cause I only spend like an hour on each chatter while other people take days, whatcanisayimlazy


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sry for the late update, finals were killing me, and then I spent time crying ;) anyway, there's finally some malec time (not like the tv show episode, ugh) in this ch, but it's not... good, ideal, happy? anyways, I'll try 2 post more frequently, tho I'm having a couple other ideas 4 some fics :). enjoy

Alec was sprawled along a couch, his long legs dangling off of the end.  He could practically feel the renewal of energy travelling throughout his limbs as he drank down a packet of blood.  It wasn’t as fresh as he would’ve liked it, but the hallow didn’t want to tempt fate, what with all the mundanes present outside, typical for another day, or night, in New York city.  The condo that he and Dylan had arranged for the night was relatively cheap, but it came with a good view of the cosmopolitan city, in one of the highest floors of the towering skyscraper.  It would've been dead silent in the living room, but the vampire’s enhanced hearing could still make out the noises of flickering lights, footsteps and bustling crowds.  Luckily, he was starting to get better at tuning out other sounds, excluding the doorbell. 

Raising his eyebrows, he slowly sat up, peeking over the couch to the offending slab of wood.  

Dylan told him the he was going to “take a tour of the city”, which of course meant that he was busy getting drunk and possibly, laid.  

When the stranger was revealed, Alec’s muscles tensed and his eyes narrowed. 

He leaned against the side of the doorway, and waited.

The warlock was dressed as impeccably as ever, with tight, sparkling jeans, held up unnecessarily by a deep purple belt, including a thick but equally stylish jacket, which partially concealed his bright neon shirt.  His hair was a dark brown, and looked soft to touch, but Alec held himself back, scolding himself. 

“Well?” he finally asked, voice cold, hiding his true emotions.  

Magnus continued to stare at him with those beautiful, slitted eyes, and he felt his skin become unnaturally cold, even more so than it was.  

He clenched his jaw, slightly, wary of the danger of his fangs “Why are you here.”

His ex boyfriend was as beautiful and lean as he remembered, although he’d just seen him a week ago, after the fateful battle with the army of demons. So close, he smelled distinctly like cinnamon, and it drew the hallow in closer unconsciously. The downworlder said nothing, but suddenly stepped forward, a movement which would’ve taken him into the room if Alec hadn’t been in the way. 

“Wha-” he began to say, surprise inhibiting the strength he would’ve naturally possessed to stand his ground as he was pushed backward.

Strong, slender fingers wrapped around pale biceps as he was shoved into a wall, hard

Finally, his instincts made their appearance, and he placed his on hands on the offending warlock’s shoulders, about to push him off.  Before that could happen though, Magnus leaned in and their lips met, hot and cold.  

His brain was buzzing, and Alec temporarily forgot what he had been planning to do.  All of his senses were heightened substantially, which was saying a lot.  He could feel the thrumming pulse of the warlock beneath his caramel skin, overwhelmed with the nostalgic, cinnamon scent, and could even make out music being played on an MP3 player, a state away.  

_ Have you gone blind? _

_ Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours? _

_ Glass half empty, glass half full... _

Magnus tilted his head to the side, as skillful as ever, and slotted their mouths into place, as the hallow attempted to regain motor control of his body.  He was being overwhelmed by sensations, and he shut his eyes, trying to recall what Rafae had taught him during all of those months… “Whatever you do, do not lose control” … “think of something else, anything else”... “focus”... “pay attention”

It was impossible, he was lost in the heat spreading through him, and he couldn't stop himself from responding, opening his mouth and threading his fingers into the brown locks.  

They were the same height, and the hallow felt strange not having to tilt his head up slightly.  Magnus pressed against the vampire so that there was not an inch of space between their bodies, and the warlock radiated warmth.  They’re tongues met as they kissed, but for once, Alec was not the more inexperienced partner.  It was easier,  _ then _ , to lure people to him, rather than forcefully search out and attack his victims.  His increasingly flawless skin, unnaturally blue eyes, height and athleticism had drawn in the foolish mundanes, and he had even occasionally messed around with them before the eventual slaughter, before Rafael and the Clan.

Now, it was effortless to meet the man stride for stride, and their tongues slid together languidly, their kisses a mixture of grace and desperation, heat and wetness.

Alec slid one of his hands out Magnus’ hair and down his back, pulling him in even closer, and the warlock moaned lowly. The hallow could feel the minuscule creak in the beams of the wall behind him. 

Magnus was braced against his chest, palms pushing into the thin fabric of the hallow’s T-shirt and the cold skin beneath, while his fingertips rested against his neck and collarbone, pinpricks of heat. 

_ You’ve got it all, you lost your mind in the sound _

_ There’s so much more, you can reclaim your crown _

There was a loud wet sound as Magnus broke the kiss and lowered his mouth to suck at Alec’s neck, and the hallow let his head fall backwards against the wall with a thump.  

_ You’re in control, rid of the monsters inside your head _

The warlock pulled at porcelain skin with his teeth, his breathe hot and strained in the small space between their bodies, his hands clamped upon Alec’s shoulders.

_ Put all your faults to bed, you can be king again _

Through half lidded eyes, small, flickering blue flames were visible in the periphery of his vision.   The same colouring of the flames that had blazed towards him little more than a year ago, although those flames had been blazing, searing, and the eyes belonging to the warlock responsible had been filled with fear, revulsion, shock, and anger.  Intending to kill.

All at once he was in control, focused, and he quickly pushed off the warlock, using the available space to move out from under him in a blur of movement to stand next the the couch.

Magnus stumbled, during which Alec wiped his glistening mouth with the back of his hand, and his hands were clenched when his arms fell back to his sides.  “Why did you do that?  Why did you kiss me?”  he hissed. 

Straightening, he swallowed, his face a mixture of shock, rejection, and… longing? Before Alec could discern what is was, the warlock schooled his expression and asked “What do you think?” 

Alec bared his fangs, grips the back of the couch so tightly that it’s wooden back was splintering, the white fabric tearing. “Don’t play games, Bane.  I’ll start to think you’re Camille.”

Magnus straightened his jacket and began to open his mouth before Alec cut him off.

“I remember when you tried to kill me, that night in the graveyard.  I saw your face...I saw how you looked at me, like I wasn’t  _ him  _ anymore.” he accused. 

“You’re not” Magnus cut in coolly, face hard.

Alec physically reared back, letting go of the ruined piece of furniture. “ I am-” he began to argue, his silky voice cracking, before he changed tactics. “Why did you come here then, if you- if you just think I’m some bloodthirsty vampire?”

There was a long moment of pause, where several emotions flickered across the warlock’s face, and Alec could see his fingers twitch towards him. Eventually he breathed out and visibly steeled himself. “You saved my life, I owe you.  How else could I pay you back?”

The hallow tore the large piece of cushion fisted in his palm, which ripped through the weighted air.  Then his shoulders fell, like whatever hope he’d held had suddenly vanished, and in an angry but clear whisper, he commanded. “Get out.” 

After a brief moment of hesitation, footsteps sounded and then gradually disappeared, but not for a long time, thanks to the hallows’ enhanced senses. 

The hallow sank to his knees, shining cerulean eyes hidden by a curtain of tangled black hair and pale fingers, shoulders shaking.  

It was some time, but he couldn’t know how much of it, before he felt a chilly palm resting on his back, and even more time before he looked up to make out Dylan’s concerned, blurry green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... first attempt at writing... smut? tho there wasn't actually anything 2 explicit, I'll get there tho, preferably when their relationship is fixed... which is gonna be soon, kinda, idk. let me know what u think

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you didn't hate it. Please comment and review, I would love feedback, since I'm still learning how to improve awkward writing. There's not too much dialogue since I know that it would've destroyed the characters and personalities of a lot of characters, especially Jace's.


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